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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29212029">No Sleep For Losers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/truthinadvertising/pseuds/BadFicOnly'>BadFicOnly (truthinadvertising)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Goretober [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Depression, Gen, Hallucinations, Overdosing, Sleepwalking, Suicide Attempt, Vomiting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:27:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,809</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29212029</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/truthinadvertising/pseuds/BadFicOnly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa is devastated after Aoba Jousai's loss to Karasuno. </p><p>Goretober Prompt: Overdose<br/>Bad Things Happen Bingo Prompt: Overdose, Depression</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Goretober [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2144754</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>No Sleep For Losers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>If you are feeling suicidal please reach out, you are too precious to lose. </p><p>USA National Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255</p><p>International Suicide Prevention Resources: https://www.opencounseling.com/suicide-hotlines</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tooru counted them out. 25. He had 25 sleeping pills in the bottle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru had put on a brave face for the team, for Hajime, for Ushiwaka. He might have been breaking inside but he still had his worthless pride. If he had to lose it was going to do it with some dignity. But now he was home, locked in his room at 11 o'clock, his parents fast asleep down the hall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything he had worked for had gone up in smoke. He felt like his whole life, every waking second he had thrown into volleyball had been wasted. He felt like his future was stalled in the fast lane. He didn't feel like he could do this anymore. He didn't want to do this anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he swallowed them. All 25 sleeping pills down the hatch with a swig of water from his water bottle. And then he turned the lights off and laid in his bed and waited for death to seep into his bloodstream. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>2AM</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Tooru hated that he wasn't asleep yet. He felt heavy and he couldn't move his limbs unless he really really concentrated on it which was difficult to do. His brain was a lump of mush. He wasn't really thinking anymore, just laying there with his eyes closed just on the edge of unconsciousness but unable to cross the bridge. Everything was foggy. Did he have a name? What had made him put himself in this state? He couldn't remember why he had been upset if he had been upset. He couldn't remember anything. The only moment was the current one and even that he was unable to comprehend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could comprehend that his stomach hurt. Every so often he'd forget about it for a while but then it would roil and the pain would bring him back. The contents of his stomach popped and bubbled and sloshed around. It hurt, a lot, but his body was so out of his control that he couldn't even make himself moan. He was sweating a cold sweat. He could tell his sheets and blanket were damp around him. His body shivered uncontrollably and he couldn't do anything to warm himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then he would forget about it all. And he'd be in that nowhere space again. Absent of conscious thought but not asleep and definitely not dead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>3AM</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ow. What was...? Where was he? Tooru couldn't open his eyes. His lids were far to heavy but he could tell he was standing. When had he gotten out of bed? He tried to open his eyes to see where he was but it was a losing battle. The floorboards were cold under his bare feet and he reached a hand out to brush his fingers against the wall...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>OW. He banged his knee of something. What had happened? Had he fallen asleep standing up? He reached out again, the wall was nowhere. Hadn't he just been touching the wall? Where was he? He couldn't think, he didn't know what direction was what. He didn't know where he was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was starting to panic but strangely his body was not reacting to the panic. It was all in his head. Trapped in the confines of his brain. No way out. No heavy breathing to let the tension out, no raised heartbeat. No, wait. His heart did feel like it was beating fast. Actually, it was beating really fast. Was he having a heart attack? Oh, god, not like this...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>FUCK. Back from unconsciousness again, his foot skidded out from under him as he slipped in a puddle. A puddle, what? It was only with immense effort that he was able to sort through the sensations and realize that his pajama pants were wet and cold. Had he pissed himself? Had he slipped in his own urine? The good news was he was on the floor and he was just barely able to drag himself across the floor until he hit the soft futon that was his bed. He wasn't even sure if he got into it before passing out again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>4AM</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Tooru just barely woke up to the burn of bile before he vomited all over his bed. He flailed as he wretched, staggering to his feet with vomit dripping down his chin. He stumbled as his stomach heaved again and his hands found the wall to brace him as he simply hung his head down and vomited all down his front. Again and again, he heaved, collapsing onto his elbows and resting his head against the wall as he slid to his knees. He felt the hot sick under his knees as it soaked into his already ruined PJ pants. He still couldn't open his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blood pounded in his ears putting a damper on the high-pitched screaming he could hear in his head. He didn't know who was screaming. Maybe it was him. But no one came to stop the noise. All of a sudden he was seeing something. When had he opened his eyes? Had he opened his eyes? He saw what he thought was his room but it didn't look quite right, not that he could remember what his room looked like in the first place. There were eyes in the corner. Red glowing eyes. Just floating there, in the darkness. He tried to crawl toward them, spitting out phlegm and bile as he went, but they kept getting farther and farther away. All of a sudden they were gone. Then behind him, he heard a deep, rolling laugh. He spun around, his head lolling, his stomach rebelling, and spewing its contents again. There was nothing behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tooru didn't know where or how or who he was so maybe it was a blessing when the drugs took him under again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>8:46AM</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Tooru's head ached. The sun was streaming in through the window and right into his eyes. He threw an arm over his face to block out the light, his mind slowly catching up with him. Eventually, he realized that he was laying on the floor, not in his bed, hence why the sun was in his face coming through a window that was on the opposite side of the room from his bed. Why was he on the floor? He couldn't remember anything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slowly he opened his eyes, groaning as the rubbed the sleep from them. He felt disgusting. Something had dried to his face and his pants were stiff in some places and damp in others. As his vision cleared and he sat up he looked around the room horrified. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It looked like a train had torn through the room. There were books on the floor knocked off his bookshelf, his desk chair was halfway across the room, a volleyball had rolled out into the middle of the room, and the contents of his school bag had rolled out across the floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then there was the vomit. Tooru wasn't sure what it was at first because it was orange. There was a puddle of it on his futon and then the wall was covered in it. An orange stain in the white paint that met up with another pool on the floor. God, how was he ever going to clean that up? Would he have to paint over the stain to hide it? He didn't even remember throwing up, how could he not remember something so violent? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was another puddle on the floor that Tooru thought might be spilled water but when he dragged his aching body over to examine it he could tell right away from the smell it was piss. That explained the damp pants then. He was shocked. How had his parents not heard any of this? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With effort, he pulled himself to his feet. With any luck, his sleep like the dead parents were still asleep and he could clean his room and himself up before anyone came poking around. He stripped out of his nasty pajamas and staggered into his bathroom, turning the shower on hot while he brushed his teeth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was halfway through his brushing when he got a look at himself in the mirror. He looked like hell. His hair was everywhere, he still had vomit dried on his face, he looked like he had two black eyes. He spit and rinsed his mouth out and quickly washed his face before stepping in the shower. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he stood under the water he slowly started to remember bits and pieces of last night. He remembered taking the pills and also belatedly remembered hearing that you couldn't kill yourself on sleeping pills nowadays because they were coated in a coating that would make you throw them up if you OD'ed. He was such an idiot. He had been too caught up in his self-pity to remember that very important fact. Hajime was going to kill him if he ever found out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which he wasn't going to. Tooru would never talk about this. He didn't feel great, aside from the aftermath of going through a violent overdose he was still upset about the loss to Karasuno. But after that, he wasn't upset to want to kill himself anymore. He really didn't remember much of the night. Just bits and pieces, his head was still clouded and he probably needed breakfast and then a real nap. He didn't want to remember though. The scene of his room was enough to make him hope that he never remembered the horror of what he went through. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After his shower, he stuck his head out the door to find the house quiet. Good, his parents were still in bed. He quietly snuck into the kitchen to gather some cleaning supplies and then brought them back to his room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so he cleaned up after himself. Tossing the sheets in the laundry, wiping the piss off the floor, scrubbing the wall of vomit (luckily the orange stain came off the wall with the help of one of those magic erasers), and picking up everything that had somehow made it onto the floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was exhausted. But now his mom was knocking on his door asking him how he was and what he wanted to eat and did he want to be alone. Honestly, he didn't really want to be alone. He was pretty freaked out. So he went out to have breakfast with his mom and dad. If they noticed the deep bags under his eyes they didn't say anything. They probably thought they were from crying anyway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was still miserable, the regret from yesterday had come drizzling back in while he cleaned. But as his mom and dad talked to him in quiet voices he thought that maybe he wasn't so miserable that he wanted to try that again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One massive overdose was enough. </span>
</p><p> </p>
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